The things we cannot tell
Are often the things weighing us down,
Like two giant heavy boulders
Propped on two thinly weak shoulders.
And if we try to take them, well
Then we would often wound
Up with telling the things we cannot tell.

But why can't we tell the things we cannot tell?
Is a knife just right under our delicate throats?
Ready to slash and make us bleed
As all of our secrets have just been freed.
Why do we try to repair that broken shell
And try to build a brand new moat?
What is wrong with the things we cannot tell?

I want to tell the things we cannot tell
And no matter how hard the waves crash
Or how long the fall is into total darkness
I can no longer try to suppress
And be the perfect belle
Trying to hide every little rash
As we conceal the things we cannot tell.

But if this is what freedom means,
Then I'll do it and watch it burn
As I tell the things that we can and could tell
The only difference is that you never wanted to.